Double Take. Leigh Riker

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СКАЧАТЬ exercise room, I don’t know what will.”

      “Emerald hates vegetables.”

      “I’ll change her mind. Ratatouille Provençal has never failed me before.”

      Brave words. Cameron wasn’t that sure about Emerald. Neither was Grace.

      “She’ll change your mind first,” Grace said.

      Cameron’s hand throbbed. She didn’t exactly regret her decision to work for Emerald Greer. Time in the celebrated but injured tennis star’s kitchen bought Cameron a valuable client—and time she hadn’t expected to need to calm her nerves about Ransom.

      To her fury, he hadn’t given up as easily as she thought last night. He’d obviously followed her to work this morning, his footsteps echoing hers. Briefly at first, she had let her paranoia kick in again until she realized—this time—who walked behind her. A couple of weeks in this well-appointed setting couldn’t hurt, the money either, but Cameron refused to call it hiding out.

      The money.

      Ransom was wrong. Let him dog her trail if he liked. No one but him was after her.

      “Now the yellow squash,” she said, tipping pieces into the pan. Fresh garlic had gone in first with salt and pepper then a splash of red wine. She added the onions that had led to her accident.

      “How did your other clients go today?” From her perch on a stool at the center island, Grace brushed wispy brown bangs from her forehead. “Two, you said,” clearly trying to distract them both.

      “A psychiatrist on West End Avenue and that dress designer in the Village. I saved time by making both of them similar menus. Did all my shopping at once—” She broke off. “Don’t let me bore you with Fulton Market. But that veal saltimbocca…”

      “You leave everything in the refrigerator when you’re done?”

      “For some clients, a week at a time. Three meals per day, seven days.” It usually took Cameron six hours at each of their apartments to cook and fill the containers. Today, she’d taken only four and hurried to leave time for Emerald. “I put their prepared foods in the fridge or the freezer. I don’t usually cook in-house for someone like Emerald and stay to serve.” She was being well paid to do so, however, and then there was Emerald’s upcoming wedding, a top story in all the newspapers. She stifled a yawn. “The doc wanted a huge fruit salad, the designer likes pasta. Everyone has favorites.”

      Grace looked wistful. “Wish I could afford your services.”

      “It’s not expensive. You’d be surprised. You will be surprised when I give you my bill for Emerald.” She stirred the vegetable mixture then added a waiting bowl of quartered tomatoes. Cameron would catch up on her sleep later, and the pay she earned was only part of her concerns. “After I cook for my clients, I clean their kitchens. That’s the worst part.” She held up her chapped hands. “If you can recommend a good dishwashing liquid, let me know. I do all the pots by hand. Are you staying for dinner, Grace?”

      Sometimes she did, Cameron had discovered, sometimes not. It depended on the workload Emerald gave her, Grace claimed, but Cameron suspected the decision depended more on Emerald’s mood. Cameron had quickly learned that her newest client was not only a celebrity, she was a very difficult woman.

      Before Grace could answer, Emerald entered the kitchen, still sweating from her workout with Ron, her personal trainer. Cameron’s exercise program consisted of her nightly walk home. Emerald wore hot-pink tights and a crop top today. Oh, and a frown. When the front door closed in the distance, Cameron remembered hearing raised voices earlier from the fitness room. So Ron wasn’t staying. Emerald cast a glance at the sink where the bloodstained towel lay.

      “What happened in here?” She turned to Grace. “Attacking our new chef? What did she suggest—skim milk and dry toast?”

      Despite Grace’s obvious embarrassment, which made Cameron uncomfortable, too, she decided the high color in Grace’s cheeks improved her looks. With her mousy brown hair and almost colorless eyes, she normally appeared bland, even invisible. Grace seemed to define the old term spinster, and even the little mole beside her mouth had more color than her drab beige clothes, which failed to hide Grace’s plump yet small-boned figure.

      Cameron’s heart went out to her. She checked the pan of salmon fillets poaching on another burner. “It was my fault. I honed my knife too sharp.”

      Grace looked thankful for Cameron’s intervention, but Emerald quickly dismissed the incident in favor of her own problems. She seemed to be Grace’s opposite, a classic blue-eyed blonde in contrast to Grace’s brown on brown, always outspoken compared to Grace’s softer tones. In the overhead light a huge diamond flashed on Emerald’s hand.

      And a collage of recent media coverage went through Cameron’s mind.

      Emerald was engaged to Theodore Kayne, a Wall Street success story who’d made his fortune buying up midsized companies then turning them into giants in their consumer specialties. Rich wasn’t the word for him.

      “We’re still waiting to hear from that French bakery?” Emerald asked Grace as if she couldn’t wait another second for the answer. She slid onto the stool beside her. “Their quotes for the wedding cake and the groom’s cake were both too high. They promised to refigure by today.”

      “They’ll call first thing tomorrow morning.”

      Cameron smiled, hoping to lighten the mood.

      “Piece of…cake. I could bake for you, Miss Greer, if you’d like me to.”

      She was already handling the rehearsal dinner. What was another task? More income, she thought. She would use fresh edible flowers on the cake, purple and yellow and white pansies, maybe a few marigolds for trim…

      “We’ll see.” Emerald shrugged. “Gracie, go home. I’m too tired to work tonight. Ron forced me to a near cardiac arrest today. Pure torture. He’ll have my biceps looking like Arnold Schwarzenegger’s before he’s done. I’ll be too muscle-bound to hold a racket. And my poor knee so soon after surgery…that man is a sadist.” She went to the refrigerator to get a soda. “Did Ted call?”

      “Mr. Kayne’s assistant said he has meetings all evening. He’ll phone tomorrow.”

      Emerald looked displeased with her fiancé. “What about the Zeus reception?”

      Grace’s gaze flickered. With irritation?

      That surprised Cameron. She didn’t imagine Grace had much passion. Zeus Sportswear was Emerald’s latest sponsor and Kayne’s newest acquisition. With Emerald as celebrity spokesperson for the company, he intended Zeus to move from its present middle-of-the-pack position to a dominant market share of the industry.

      “Eight o’clock tomorrow night,” Grace told Emerald. “The limo will pick you up at seven-thirty.” She stopped. “Will you need me then?”

      Emerald smirked. “I never need you, dearest. I keep you around for amusement.” She grabbed a carrot then slid off the stool, her assistant apparently forgotten. “Do I have time for a shower before dinner?”

      Cameron sent Grace a look of commiseration.

      “A СКАЧАТЬ